Wings and Razors
by vanityxgreed
Summary: I wish I couldn't think, couldn't feel. Why can't everything just be numb? And why must I be brought back from the edge. I won't thank you for this. I can't. This is a GrimIchi to some extent. There will most likely be a sequel. Rated M for suicidal thoughts and mentions of rape. Must be 18 or older to view this work of fiction.


_**Greed: One shot time! This is something for Zaraki-Lover 21. They requested a GrimIchi, so that's what they're getting! **_

_**Vanity: And, as you have probably figured out, we like the darker side of things. So, this one starts out dark. **_

_**Greed: So, read and enjoy!**_

…

**Oneshot… Wings and Razors**

…

For so long I have wanted to die. To remove the pain that follows me around. Everything is bleak and barren. There is nothing that really holds me to this world. Nothing that I can think of right now. And that hurts. So much. Everything has been dull for so long that I'm not sure if I'm seeing color any longer. Just blacks and greys. Harsh shadows that try to hide the pain and hurt within the world.

"_Are you sure you want to do this?"_ a voice asks. No, no I'm not sure. And, yet, here I am, razor blade poised over my wrist ready to end it. I want to turn my head, see who is speaking to me, but I don't. If the demons in my head were trying to taunt me into keeping this miserable life, I didn't want to see them. It. Him. He was a reason that I was doing this. One of many.

Oh, now I was remembering things I wish I could forget. Lock away. Dammit. I thought I wouldn't do this. Think. I thought it would be easy not to think. How wrong I was. Right now, before I dragged the blade down my arm, that was all I was doing.

Thinking about how my father was afraid of me and tried to make me take medication to ride myself of my demon. That ever present voice in my head. But that medicine dulled everything even further. It made it to where my world was dark, where no light entered my eyes. I believe he was starting to look for a place to put me, imprison me within white walls filled with doctors claiming to help. I would not go someplace where everything was predetermined for me.

And my friends, they were steadily pulling away. Or was it me that was pushing them? 'Ichigo,' Orihime had started one day, 'is there something wrong? You're… different than usual.' I thought I had hidden it better than that. Hidden it so that no one would be the wiser and think that I was truly crazed. I hadn't answered her, not really. I just gave some vague excuse that seemed to make her happy. She is gullible and easy to fool. I thanked whatever god was out that that she hadn't pressed for information. I wouldn't have given it.

And one of the final straws was the fact that everyone seemed out to get me. On the streets, people seemed to line up to get a shot at me, to beat me up and take whatever title came from my defeat. It made things worse that several weeks ago some men had jumps me from behind. One of them had grabbed me around the neck, choking me and cutting off my air. Another had pulled my arm out straight and rolled up my sleeve as I struggled. He had a syringe and that needle had ended up in my arm, the plunger going down and emptying whatever was in the cylinder. I still hadn't a clue as to what that had been. Everything else was blurry. I remembered pain and slight pleasure. Hands and wet mouths.

God, nononono. I couldn't remember that! I couldn't remember waking up in that alley, naked and cold. Something dripping out of me from someplace that there shouldn't be something like that. Pained and confused, I had pulled on my pants and jacket, my shirt was ruined so I left it in that alleyway. Making my way home had been hell. I'm surprised I hadn't passed out and woken in the hospital. No. I didn't want to remember!

The silver razor was so close to my skin. All it would take was one motion and that wrist would be cut open, emptying my life into the tub. Switch hands and another swipe or two and it would end so fast. There wouldn't be anything but a slight burning in my wrists and then everything would be numb.

"_Are you sure you want to do this." _That voice again. It registered that it wasn't the voice to my demon. That thing that lived inside of me. It was tempting me to turn. To stop what I was doing for just a moment more. And I did. I did look over and look at what was calling me.

"Who are you?" I whispered to the blue haired man standing beside my bathtub. "Another demon to torture me? Go away."

I almost turned back to my mission. My final moments in life. _"I don't know. A hallucination, an angel of death maybe, or a demon. Pick one, I don't care. But, are you sure you want to do this?"_

"No, no I'm not sure," I said aloud. "I'm not sure about anything. I just want everything to go away."

"_What about your sisters. You didn't think about them at all. They don't shun you, fear you. Would you really make them morn your loss and not even know why you chose to leave them? Do you really want to put them through another death? You're being selfish, wanting to end something that they cherish,"_ the man told me.

It was true. My sisters were a light in my world. Something I cherished, and they cherished me. However, this was my life, I wanted to shout. I wanted to cry that it was selfish of them to cherish me so much that they could force me to live. Force me to keep the pain and the misery.

"_Do you really want Karin or Yuzu to open that door when they get home tomorrow and find you lying in blood that has dried? Do you wish for your father to blame himself for not seeing just how depressed you have become? Them finding you in dead is not the answer to remove your pain. I'll ask again. Do you want to do this?" _

Curse those blue, blue eyes that didn't waver from my shaking form. Curse that damned serious expression that seemed to barely fit with that face. And curse the fact that I dropped the razor and pulled my hands to my eyes, catching tears that I promised I would never shed again after my mother died. How could this-this hallucination be so powerful as to pull me back from death? How could I let him? It?

A soft caress to my wrist had me looking up. That touch was so insubstantial, that I was surprise it could grab my attention so thoroughly. That nonexistent touch seemed to guide my hand down, showing me how close I had come to my death. A dot of blood slid down my pale skin and I shuddered. So close. I had been so damned close. And I still wanted it. Needed it. But I wouldn't, couldn't do it now. Thanks to this blue haired demon that called himself an Angel of Death. No, I wouldn't thank him. I couldn't. I was not grateful for this.

My eyes met the eyes of the one that had stopped me. A crazy grin spread across his features. _"Life shouldn't be wasted, no matter what the reason. Find something to live for, no matter hope much it is outweighed by the bad. One person or one simple thing that makes you happy, stick with it and it will be your light."_

…

_**Vanity: I almost cried writing that. Damn. Alright, so, I think we will end it there for now. **_

_**Greed: However, while writing it, we had some ideas. We may not keep this as a oneshot. However, the second story will most likely be separate from this one. This could be the piece that you don't really have to read to understand the story, I guess.**_

_**Vanity: She doesn't explain things very well, does she? We will most likely create another story to go along with this oneshot. We may update this with a piece of it if we feel like it. Review your thoughts. And, sorry there was no lemon. We planned it, but it did not fit with this part of the story. **_


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